Big Love (3 page)

“Annabelle is concerned about you because you’ve been un-daredevil-y lately,” Zing said.

“It’s true. I’ve been down in the dumps ever since my girlfriend dumped me for her yoga instructor. Giselle said she has a nicer tush than I do.”

“You deserve better than her,” Zing said.

“Thank you, honey. I’m inclined to think so, too.”

Zing’s tummy rumbled loudly.

Miracle smiled and asked, “Do you want a peanut butter and jelly sandwich? It’s about lunch time.”

“I’ve never had one.”

“Then you just gotta try one,” Miracle said. “I make the best peanut butter and jelly sandwiches in the world.”

“I’d love to eat one of the best sandwiches in the world, thank you.”

“Good,” Miracle said, leading the way into the kitchen. “I’m afraid it’s all I’ve got in the house. I need to go grocery shopping, but I haven’t been up to it. I’ve been trying to write poems about broken hearts, but I’m too depressed to even write a bad poem.”

“I know.”

“Let me guess. Annabelle told you.”

Zing nodded.

“Well, you sit down right here.” Miracle pulled out a chair at the kitchen table for Zing. “And I’ll make us both lunch.”

Zing watched Miracle buzz around the kitchen. It seemed like Miracle was getting her zest back again. She even smiled and hummed while she fixed the sandwiches. Maybe all Miracle needed was somebody that needed her.

Zing was intrigued that the peanut butter and the jelly was all in the same jar. She picked up the jar and studied it. It was filled with creamy peanut butter and swirled with grape jelly. “Very pretty,” she said. “I like the jelly stripes.”

“Talk about ingenious,” Miracle said. She handed Zing her sandwich. “When the peanut butter and jelly were in two separate jars, I used the same knife and was always getting peanut butter residue in the jelly jar and jelly residue in the peanut butter. So then I started using two knives. One for peanut butter and one for jelly. Now, I can use one knife and don’t have to worry about residue.”

“You humans are very resourceful.”

“Aren’t we, though? Eat up,” Miracle said.

Zing took a bite and studied the flavor. She swallowed and smiled her approval. “This is very good. I like it.”

Miracle cocked her head and furrowed her brow. “You’ve really never had a peanut butter and jelly sandwich?”

“No.”

Miracle gave this some more thought—a little wrinkle appeared between her eyebrows.

“I bet there’s lots of things you haven’t tried,” Miracle said.

“I’ve led a vicarious life,” Zing said, sticking her finger into her sandwich and pulling it out. Peanut butter was sticky but smooth. She coated her lips with the peanut butter. She stuck her lips together and pulled them apart, then licked them. “Interesting texture.”

Miracle grabbed her arm. “Let’s get you cleaned up and then we’re going to have some fun. I know just the place.”

“But I’m supposed to be…” Zing tried to say.

“Supposed-to-be’s are overrated, darlin’. Come on.”

***

One hour later, Zing was dressed in khaki shorts and a flowing peasant blouse. The blouse was green and Miracle said it matched her eyes. Right now, Zing’s eyes were wide and staring up at the largest rollercoaster she’d ever seen. The rollercoaster had been aptly named The Monster.

“We’re going up on that?” Zing asked.

“We sure as shootin’ are,” Miracle said, a wild look in her eyes.

They were at the For Your Amusement Only Park. The signs around the park advertised “The World’s Best Amusement Park.” Aren’t I lucky? Zing thought. First I get the world’s best sandwich and now the world’s best amusement park.

There were more rides per square inch than Zing thought possible. Miracle had bought them a pass for all the rides, stating that they’d have only three hours before the park closed so they needed to get busy. “It’s possible,” Miracle said. “I once did all the rides in an hour and forty-five minutes, but I was wearing skates at the time.”

Zing watched the screaming people in the carts zoom up and down the The Monster. For the first time in her long existence as a guardian angel, Zing was terrified. She’d always imagined herself a brave thrill-seeker who’d been denied thrills. She understood now how Annabelle must have felt when she’d dived into Miracle’s risky activities in order to prevent her untimed death.

Miracle led the way up to the rollercoaster. A skinny kid with acne, who chewed gum furiously, punched their passes and pointed to a shiny red metallic cart. He must have sensed Zing’s trepidation because Miracle had her arm and was dragging her to the cart. He followed and pulled the safety bar over their laps. He leaned in to Zing and said, “Lady, you are in for the ride of your life, so hang on tight.”

“She’s got this down,” Miracle said confidently.

Zing did not feel confident. The cart lurched forward. Zing grabbed Miracle’s hand and whispered, “My chest feels cold, my hands are sweaty, and I think I have to pee,” Zing said. “I must have the flu.”

“You’re just scared,” Miracle said. “That’s what happens when you get scared.”

Zing had never been scared before. Having a body that did these things was weird and made her realize for the first time what she’d gotten herself into. This was BIG. Going back to HQ and her cubicle and vicarious living seemed like a good idea right about now.

Then she thought about Nell. Poor, poor, hairless Nell. She owed it to her to make things right. She couldn’t go back. Not yet.

The shiny red cart clattered and climbed. Higher and higher they went. “Are you sure these things are safe?” she yelled over the clacking and clanging of the cart’s wheels.

“No, I’m not. But that’s the best part—the not knowing, the embracing of letting go. If now is the time for me to die, then I can’t prevent it, so I’m embracing it,” Miracle yelled back. “It’s called livin’ out loud.”

They were almost to the top. Zing’s long red tresses streamed out behind her as the ascent rushed up at them. The cart teetered for a brief moment at the very top and then cascaded down so fast Zing felt like she’d left her body behind. Her body caught up with her at the very bottom and she screamed and kept screaming while the cart whirled and dipped, climbed, and fell again and again. She looked over at Miracle who smiled with wild abandon and had her arms over her head reaching for the sky. It touched some part of Zing. She stopped screaming, held her arms high, and smiled. She was living out loud. And it felt terrific!

Between rides—none were so terrible and terrific as The Monster—they had a soft-serve ice cream cone. They sat on a bench and licked their cones, happily people-watching.

Suddenly, Zing yelped and grabbed the top of her head. Something was happening. Something bad. The top of her head was going to explode. “Oh, it hurts! What’s happening to me? Is my brain going to blow up?”

Miracle laughed. “No, silly, you just have a brain freeze. Stick your thumb on the roof of your mouth.”

“Huh?”

“Stick your thumb in your mouth and suck on it.”

“Why?” Zing said.

“I don’t know why. It just works. Do it,” Miracle commanded.

Zing stuck her thumb in her mouth and sucked. After a few seconds her brain warmed back up.

“Better?” Miracle asked. She had chocolate ice cream on her chin. It looked like a little chocolate soul patch.

Zing nodded. “I didn’t know ice cream was so dangerous.”

“Just don’t eat it so fast.”

“Can I have another one?”

“One’s enough, Zing. Haven’t you ever heard the saying ‘too much of a good thing?’”

“Nope. You have some ice cream on your chin,” Zing said.

“I’m saving it for a snack later,” Miracle joked.

“That’s a good idea,” Zing said. She stuck a blob of ice cream on her own chin.

“I was kidding,” Miracle said, taking a napkin and wiping it off Zing’s chin.

“Oh.”

“Don’t do everything people tell you. It’s dangerous,” Miracle said.

“I did what you told me to do. You told me to get on the rollercoaster and then the Tea Cups and those are dangerous, but I did it.”

Miracle smiled. “I’m different. You can do what I tell you. Come on, there’s a few more rides I want to take you on.” She shoved the rest of the cone in her mouth in one big bite. Zing did the same.

***

Zing lay in bed marveling at the soft smoothness of the sheets. Miracle had given her a new toothbrush, toiletries, some of her ex’s old clothes, and put her in the guest room. Zing was wearing pajamas that had pictures of fluffy little sheep on them. The sheep were jumping over a fence. The pajamas felt really good against her skin.

The thick volume of
The Guardian
Angel’s Handbook
sat on the nightstand. When she glanced at it she felt a pang of guilt. She was supposed to be reading it, but so far all she’d done was go to the world’s best amusement park.

Guilt was a new sensation. It felt bad in her tummy. Zing wondered if it would go away like the scared feeling had gone away on the rollercoaster. Scared had been replaced by exhilaration. Was there a way to stop the guilt and replace it with a different feeling? Maybe if she sucked her thumb it would go away.

“Did you have fun?” Annabelle asked.

Zing jumped. She saw Annabelle perched on top of the dresser. “What are you doing here?”

“I have a message from Bertha,” Annabelle said.

“Oh? How is she?” Zing asked in a futile attempt to derail the conversation. After she said it, she reconsidered her question—perhaps it wasn’t a good one. Bertha had only agreed under much duress and an obvious sense of foreboding to allow Zing a day on earth in a human body. Zing had promised with much hand-wringing and even more tears to remedy what her inattentiveness had done to Nell.

“She’s peeved because you haven’t returned yet and instead you’re down here having fun.” Annabelle picked up the thick book from the nightstand.

“She sent you here to tell me to stop having fun?” Zing patted the space next to her on the bed. “Sit here. It’s a lot more comfortable than the dresser.”

Annabelle joined Zing on the bed. Zing fluffed up one of the feather pillows and placed it behind Annabelle’s head. “Comfy?”

“I’ll say. Pillows are soft,” Annabelle said.

“Yes, they are,” Zing said. She wanted to keep Annabelle off task. Usually, it wasn’t a hard thing to do. All you had to do was divert her attention. “There’re lots of wonderful things here. Feel the sheets,” she said running her hands over them. Annabelle did the same.

Annabelle snapped out of it. “I know what you’re doing. You’re trying to distract me,” Annabelle said. “But it won’t work.”

“Oh yeah?” Zing said. She grabbed her pillow and hit Annabelle right in the face with it.

Annabelle shook her head and sputtered, “Why’d you do that?”

“It’s called a pillow fight. Miracle told me about them. It’s something friends do when they share a bed. Now hit me with your pillow.”

“I don’t understand why,” Annabelle said.

“There’s no why.” Zing handed Annabelle her pillow, saying, “Hit me with it.”

Annabelle took the pillow and tapped it on Zing’s shoulder.

“Come on. You can do better than that.” Zing hit Annabelle over the head with her pillow. Surprised into action, Annabelle hit Zing over the head.

The pillow war began.

They jumped on the bed, whacking each other with pillows, laughing and fighting until they both lay gasping on the bed. They lay side by side, panting, staring at the ceiling.

“That was fun,” Annabelle said once she caught her breath.

“See, there’s all sorts of fun to be had. Maybe you should stay awhile. I bet Bertha would let you if you asked.”

“Zing, you know I can’t. Bertha would have a fit,” Annabelle said. She bit her lip. “But I did find a way for you to stay a little longer.”

Zing sat straight up. “What?”

“It’s an obscure clause in the book,” Annabelle said. She grabbed the handbook and thumbed through it quickly until she found the page she was looking for. “Here it is.”

Zing leaned over. “What does it say?” She was too impatient to read it herself. Her reading comprehension went right out the window when she was overly excited.

“It says that once a guardian angel has entered the physical world—as you have—that a furlough of thirty days is allowed if, in the line of duty, the guardian must watch over her charge because of some continued endangerment.”

Zing picked up her pillow and squeezed it against her chest. “What kind of endangerment? The doctor released Nell from the hospital. I don’t think hair loss counts as further endangerment.”

“The danger is her broken heart. Which was why she fell in the manhole in the first place, right? If she hadn’t been arguing with that Dove woman, she would’ve been paying attention where she was walking.”

“So I’m supposed to guard her heart? That’s the danger I’ve got to protect her from—a broken heart?”